The Painful Truth
by kgmohror
Summary: This story is based primarily on the Cedar Cove series as interpreted by Hallmark network, not the original bookseries by Debbie Macomber. Basically, it's my attempt to fill in the blanks of Peggy Beldon's backstory and speculate on the origins of her big secret (since we are unlikely to get such details in the actual series).
1. Chapter 1

**The Painful Truth**

_Cedar Cove, its scenarios and characters are property of Debbie Macomber. This work is not intended as infringement on that copyright, nor on any rights held by the Hallmark network or its parent company. I derive no monetary benefit from this fanfic._

**NOTE: This story was written in response to a storyline in the second season of Hallmark's televised version of Cedar Cove, which diverges significantly from the book series on which it is based. Therefore, the characters here are based more closely on the characters on the show than in the books.**

**CHAPTER 1**

_June 2014_

Late morning sun slanted through the windows, casting long fingers of golden light over polished oak floors. The part of the kitchen where Peggy Beldon cowered, though, was still lightly shadowed. It wasn't half dim enough for the lovely blond woman who stood trembling, pressed tightly into a corner, wishing she could simply melt into the dark wood at her back, safe from the glare of truths too long concealed, secrets so long buried … yet never forgotten.

From her vantage point she could just see through the window to where Moon still stood beside the half-planted perennial bed. She watched him stare up at the house for an endless moment, as though considering what to do. Then he picked up his bicycle, got on and rode away, casting frequent looks over his shoulder as he pedaled down the gravel driveway and turned back toward town.

Only when he was out of sight did Peggy release the breath she'd been holding. It came out as a long, shuddering sigh as a wave of shame rolled over her. What a coward she'd been, bolting for the house as soon as Colin drove away. She heard Moon's anxious call behind her as she ran like a hunted animal, needing to distance herself as much from Moon's concern as from her old enemy. She was grateful to Moon's intervention, but she knew he'd want to talk about what he'd seen, offer her assistance and his trademark advice. He would insist that Bob should know, of course – and Peggy couldn't, _couldn't _allow that. So she had fled from Moon and the sad look in his eyes that she understood was meant to be compassion, but which she could only see as reproach: I told you so.

The edge of the marble countertop was cool beneath Peggy's grasping fingers she she waited for her racing heart to settle. She had to pull herself together. They were expecting a noon check-in, and Bob would be back any minute. He'd see at once that something was wrong; he was already suspicious, she knew. Regret knifed through her then, as keen as the blade standing in the butcher's block on the center island. That Bob should doubt her for any reason was almost more than she could bear. Yet it was so, and she had no one to blame but herself. She had created this breach of trust 20 years ago, had spent every minute since trying to conceal it, to convince herself it never happened. But deep inside she'd always known this day of reckoning would come. It was not fear for herself that made Peggy's stomach churn and a sob rise in her throat. She would deserve whatever punishment fate had in store for her. It was how Bob would be hurt that haunted her. She would face any torment, perform any penance if only to keep from seeing that pain in her husband's eyes, the betrayal of a foolish decision she would give anything in the world to unmake.

Peggy felt a sudden weakness in her knees. Seeking to steady herself, she turned and flattened her palms on the stone countertop and rested her forehead against the cupboard above it. The dark wood was smooth and slightly warm against her skin. Closing her eyes, Peg pictured Bob's strong, calloused hands patiently rubbing the wood until it felt like satin and seemed almost to glow with its own soft, inner light.

Her mind's eye shifted to a memory of Bob, his grin still endearingly boyish in his sixth decade, leading her out to the workshop on Christmas morning. She heard again his low chuckle at her scolding chatter ("It's freezing out here, Bob, and we're not even wearing coats!") and recalled his obvious pride when he took her to the back of the workshop and pulled a tarp off his gift for her with a flourish and a gleeful, "Ta da!" Seeing the line of beautifully crafted cabinets he'd been working on all those months when he said he was just "puttering" in the woodshop, Peggy had exclaimed, "Walnut! Oh, Bob, that's so expensive!" She regretted it instantly as she saw a flicker of hurt cross his face. But he immediately straightened his broad shoulders, gently placed his hands around her waist and smiled down at her. "Nothing is too good for my Peggy," he'd said, and the soft look in his eyes had made her feel 17 again.

Such a beautiful, precious memory … yet one of oh, so many such moments over the course of a lifetime together. This strong, good man, who found it hard to express his deepest feelings in words, nevertheless showed her every day how he treasured her. And she had tried to do the same. The past 20 years had been so wonderful. It almost made her forget the pain that had come before. Despite her effort to block it out, Peggy's mind was suddenly flooded with memories of the worst time of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

_October 9, 1994_

Peggy paced the worn, linoleum kitchen floor, pausing each lap to look out the narrow window into the darkness outside. She glanced at the clock for the 100th time that evening: 11:35. Six hours since her husband, ignoring her tearful pleading, had gotten into his old truck and roared off, raising a cloud of dust behind his tailpipe has he gunned it toward town. At this moment, Peggy knew, he might be sitting on a barstool in nearby Cooperton, having long ago worn out his welcome at the watering holes of Cedar Cove through his belligerence and brawling. More likely, he was sitting along some deserted country road with his most faithful companion, a bottle of Windsor. It would be mostly gone by now. Peggy prayed he would pass out where he parked, sleep off his bender. He would pull into the driveway tomorrow morning, silent and shame-faced, and neither of them would speak of the night before. And tomorrow night, he would get back into his truck and drive away again.

Or maybe tonight would be one of those where Peggy would lie awake until the sound of his truck and the glare of headlights piercing the bedroom window signaled her husband's return. She would rise, wrap her robe around her and go outside. She would help him from the truck, hold him around the waist, sagging under his weight as they staggered to the house. He would be angry - swearing and stumbling – or morose, crying and begging her forgiveness. It wouldn't matter either way. She would get him to the bedroom. Pull off his boots, his pants, his shirt. Put him to bed. And then she would go to the kitchen, make herself a cup a coffee, and cry.

Almost five years. That's how long the most recent period of sobriety had lasted. Long enough to begin to hope it would stick this time. Long enough for the constant dread, the waiting for the phone to ring, to begin to fade just a little. Long enough for them to sit proudly side by side in the Cedar Cove gymnasium and watch first Michael, then, two years later, Robin, walk the stage to collect their high school diplomas.

Oh, God. What was she going to tell the kids? It had taken so much hard work on both sides to repair the cracks in her children's relationship with their Dad. All wasted, now. At least they were both away at school: Michael across the country at NYU and Robin in a study abroad program in Italy. She would have a little time to figure out how to break the news to them.

Peggy wished she could call David, who always knew what to do. But David was gone.

David, who had saved Bob's life twice – once in Vietnam, and again when he helped his friend realize that his life had become unmanageable …

David, who had sponsored Bob in AA, helped the family cope with his occasional slips, celebrated with them at every milestone in his recovery ...

David, who had talked Bob through his flashbacks and who raced to the house when a terrified Peggy called to say Bob had woken up screaming again, and now she couldn't get him out of the bathroom …

David, who had told Peggy, on the brink of despair, that "where there's life, there's hope …"

David, who helped so many others conquer their demons, but ultimately couldn't conquer his own.

David, who six days ago had held his old service revolver to his temple and pulled the trigger.

It was the shock, the devastation, of David's death that pushed Bob back into the bottle, Peggy believed. She knew David would have disagreed; he'd have told her that alcoholics drink because they want to drink, and for no other reason. Yet she had held Bob the night they heard of David's death, listening to him sob out his rage and remorse. "It's my fault, Peg," he'd insisted, over and over. "My God, he saved my life. And I wasn't there for him when he needed me!" Peggy's reassurances that he couldn't have known, that nobody had seen David's inner turmoil, had no effect on Bob. The next morning, Bob had gone down to the docks as usual in the morning, and had not come home that night. A frantic Peggy had driven the dark streets of Cedar Cove until she found him sitting in his truck outside the municipal liquor store. He was drunk and weeping and admitted that he hadn't gotten on the fishing boat that morning.

And so it had begun again, and this past week of fear and disappointment and anger and dashed hopes had been the worst of Peggy's life. She had told him, last time he got sober, that she wouldn't go through it again. She didn't have the heart to watch him complete the slow suicide he'd been committing since the day he stepped off the plane from Vietnam. It was an empty threat, as they both knew. Because despite everything, Peggy loved her Bob Beldon more than her own life – had since she was 17 years old. She loved him because she knew the_ real_ Bob: the hard-working, great-hearted, loving and giving man he was away from the bottle. And so, no matter what happened, Peggy would stay.

But it was so hard, this time, without David to catch them when they fell. Peggy had never felt so alone, so desperate. There had to be someone she could go to for help. She wouldn't ask Bob's fellow fishermen from the boat, most of whom drank as hard as Bob and didn't see anything wrong with "blowing off some steam" at the end of a long day at sea. There was the new guy Bob had recently sponsored, a strange character who looked like an old hippie, called himself Moon and had drifted into town from God knows where. Bob told Peggy that Moon was a good guy, underneath the fringed vest, the puka shell necklace and the slightly dazed expression. Sure, he'd protested the Vietnam War while Bob had risked his life fighting it, but that was in the past. Still, Moon made Peggy nervous, and besides, he was so new to his own sobriety that she didn't want to risk his recovery by asking him to confront his own sponsor.

There was someone Peggy might call … but it would be awkward. Aside from David, Colin McFadden was Bob's best friend – had been since childhood. In fact, it was Colin who introduced Peggy to Bob. Peggy was a junior at Cooperton High School when she met Colin at a football game between the Cooperton Cougars and the Cedar Cove Mariners. They'd hit it off and had gone on a couple of casual dates when they ran into Colin's good friend Bob Beldon at the movie theatre one night. Later, both Bob and Peggy would insist it was love at first sight. Always a gentleman, Bob waited to call Peggy until she and Colin stopped seeing each other not long after. They had never been serious, and when Peggy gently suggested to Colin that they'd be better as friends than boyfriend and girlfriend, he seemed to take it in stride. He was a good looking kid, and never lacked for female attention.

Bob was … well, he was just the most handsome boy Peggy had ever seen. And the sweetest. Despite his matinee idol looks, she found he was a little shy. Still, he could have had his pick of the girls in the whole county – and he picked Peggy. From their first date (the Cedar Cove senior prom) they were inseparable. When Bob enlisted right out of high school and was shipped to Vietnam, Peggy waited for him to come home.

Colin, whom she'd interacted with often while dating Bob because of the guys' continuing friendship, had somehow finagled a deferment. Peggy began to see a lot of Colin while Bob was away, though not by choice; strangely, it seemed wherever she went, there he would be, too. And no matter what the occasion, Colin was sure to seek out her company and stick like glue to her all evening. Peggy began to feel a little annoyed with Mr. McFadden, until he confided in her that Bob had written him from aboard ship and asked him to watch out for Peggy while he was gone. Peggy was touched by knowing Bob worried about her from so far away, and so grudgingly accepted Colin's constant presence. At least he was someone she could talk to about Bob, and sharing her feelings for Seaman Beldon with his best friend helped her feel just a little closer to her absent sweetheart.

One evening Peggy was actually glad to see Colin's slightly smug expression across the room at a dance fundraiser to support the troops. She hurried across the dance floor and laid a hand on Colin's wrist. "Can we go someplace and talk?" she murmured quietly. He nodded, smiling, and they went out to sit in his car in a darkened corner of the parking lot.

As soon as they were settled in the front seat, Peggy opened her purse and rummaged until she found an envelope. She pulled out the letter inside. "I got this letter from Bob today," Peggy said in a tight voice. "He writes that everything is fine, but I know there's something wrong. " She thrust the paper toward Colin to read for himself.

Colin waved it away. "Geez, Peg. Give the guy a break. He's been in the stinking jungle for almost two years. That would bring anybody down."

Peggy shook her head. "No, it's more than homesickness. Besides, his tour is up in six weeks. You'd think he'd be excited about coming home."

"Well, maybe he's not."

"What do you mean?" Peggy gave Colin a hard look.

He sighed sympathetically. "Come on, Peg. He's been gone a long time. People's feelings change, you know? Maybe he just doesn't want to tell you he's not interested in picking up where you left off."

"I don't believe that," she exclaimed. "If you'd just read the letter, you'd see how sweet and loving he still is. It's just a little … off. Like there's something he doesn't want to tell me. I'm so worried about him, Colin."

While she spoke, Colin had been looking away, out the driver's side window. Now she heard him mutter, "I've had about enough of hearing about Bob." Suddenly he swung his head around, grabbed Peggy's face in both hands and kissed her fiercely. Peggy lurched away from him, pressing herself against the passenger door.

"How dare you!" she gasped, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You know I'm with Bob!"

Colin's face had darkened like a thundercloud. "Yeah, well, you were with me before you were with him."

Peggy stared, wide eyed. "I was _never_ with you, Colin McFadden. We went out, what – three times?" Her heart was pounding. "Bob's your friend! He's my fiancé!" She gasped at her slip; Bob had proposed to her the night before he went off for basic training, but they had agreed to keep their engagement to themselves until he returned from service. But now the truth was out … and Colin wasn't happy about it.

"Fiance? Gimme a break," he snarled. "You think Bob's been some kind of monk while he's been gone? Saigon's full of beautiful women happy to show a guy a good time for a price. Bob's written me all about his weekend shore leaves."

"You're a liar." Peggy saw Colin's gaze flicker to the side for a moment, and knew she was right. "I love Bob," she continued, "and I trust him. He's coming home in six weeks, and it's going to be wonderful."

This provoked a snort of derision from the young man opposite her. "He might be coming home, but it's sure as hell not going to be wonderful. You've seen how these guys come back. They're messed up. You don't need a guy like that. You need a man who can take care of you, the way a real man can." The salacious inflection in his voice made Peggy blush furiously and she fumbled behind her for the door handle.

"My relationship with Bob is none of your business, Colin," she sputtered as she pushed the door open and scrambled out. "I don't want you anywhere near me again. And when Bob gets home, I think he'll have something to say about how you've acted tonight." She slammed the car door and, pulling her sweater around her shoulders, ran back to the dance hall.

Peggy managed to avoid Colin after that, mostly by staying home most evenings. She didn't mind that part; she really didn't enjoy socializing without Bob anyway. And when Bob stepped off the _U.S.S. Higbee _six weeks later, Peggy was there to greet him. It was as joyous a reunion as she'd imagined, and contrary to Colin's claims, Bob's commitment to Peggy and their future was as strong as ever.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Colin wasn't wrong about everything, though. Almost from the moment Bob stepped off the gangplank, Peggy sensed he wasn't the same carefree boy she'd said goodbye to two years before. There was a new wariness about him, and something in his soft, hazel eyes that hinted at terrible things seen that could never be forgotten. He had occasional dark moods when he wanted only to be left alone to brood on something he refused to talk about.

And he drank. As far as Peggy knew, Bob hadn't touched a drop of alcohol before he joined the Navy. Now it seemed he always had a can of beer in one hand, and he soon revealed a tendency to "cut loose" on the weekends, hitting the bar at 5:00 on Friday and partying until Sunday night. He never got drunk during the week, and worked hard and diligently at his new job on a purse seine fishing boat operating out of the Cedar Cove marina. Most of the time, everything was wonderful.

Most of the time.

Peggy never told Bob about what Colin had said and done that night in his car; she didn't want to add to her fiance's stress. Since coming home, Bob had shown a tendency to fly off the handle with very little provocation, and Peggy frankly worried about how he might react if he knew of his friend's betrayal. For his part, Colin seemed to have forgotten all about the incident. He was always congenial when Bob and Peggy saw him, which was frequently. They even double-dated with Colin and his revolving door of girlfriends. But Peggy made sure to stick close to Bob when Colin was around, and avoided speaking to him unless she had to.

After nine months of planning and happy anticipation, Bob Beldon married Peggy Durham on June 3, 1972, surrounded by family and friends. He was 21. She was 19. They were deeply in love and sure of a perfect, happy future together.

It didn't quite work out that way.

Like most young couple, the Beldons found that married life could be very hard. No matter how many hours Bob put in on the fishing boat, there never seemed to be enough money to make ends meet. Peggy worked as a secretary for a while, but when Michael was born almost exactly nine months after the wedding, and Robin the following year, she gave up her job to stay home with them. Bob was a wonderful , loving father … when he was sober. And that was still most of the time, for the first few years. But the black moods were still there, the nightmares that woke him up in a cold sweat several times a week. Bob came to believe that a drink or two before bed relaxed him and kept the night terrors at bay. A "couple" soon became 3 or 4, and Bob was regularly passing out on the couch. There were times, now, when Peggy had to call the captain of Bob's boat with excuses: Bob has the flu. Bob had a bad reaction to medication. Bob was called out of town by a death in the family. She hated lying to Captain Johanson, who was kind and patient. But she had no choice. They needed Bob's job.

Eventually, even nice Captain Johanson's patience was exhausted. It happened the morning Bob staggered onto the_ Jenny_, still half in the bag from the night before and in a foul mood. The captain told him to stay behind and sober up; he didn't need some drunk fool stumbling around the deck, putting himself and his crewmates in danger. Bob let loose a stream of profanities and took a swing at his boss. He was restrained by two burly mates and dumped unceremoniously on the dock.

And that was the end of working for Captain Johanson.

Peggy was eternally grateful to the captain for at least not pressing charges. That would make it impossible for Bob to get a place on any other boat in the Sound. Filled with remorse, Bob went to Johanson, cap in hand, and begged for his job back. But the captain stood firm: He told Bob he'd be glad to have him back on the crew – when and if he got sober.

This was the beginning of a seemingly endless cycle of hope and heartache. Bob would quit cold turkey, staying sober for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. He'd get a job with one of the local fishing operations, crewing the _Bristol_ or the _Limpet_ or the _Waverider._ Then the nightmares would start up again, or Bob would see or hear something that reminded him of the war, or some other reason that Peggy never knew … and one day he wouldn't come home at the usual time. Peggy would feed the kids hotdogs and macaroni & cheese, drop them off at a friend's house, and start trolling the streets for her husband.

There were times, when things got really bad, that Peggy seriously considered packing up the kids and moving back with her folks in Cooperton. There were even more times when Bob, sunk in the depths of depression and self-loathing, urged her to go. "You deserve so much better," he'd tell her, teary-eyed. "This isn't the life I wanted for you."

It was hardest on Michael and Robin. He broke Peggy's heart to see her children hesitate when their father y walked in the door, never knowing whether to run to his welcoming arms or run to their rooms to avoid the scary daddy who smelled funny and yelled and broke things. As they got older, they didn't bring friends home to the house, and they begged Peggy not to tell their mom when they had sports or school programs, fearing their Dad might embarrass them if he showed up drunk.

But despite everything, Peggy loved him. The kids loved him. He was a _good_ man, Peggy knew. A man scarred in ways she couldn't even imagine, tormented by experiences that even a strong man couldn't weather. And so she stayed.

Bob and Peggy had been married almost 15 years when he went on a three-day bender that ended with paramedics prying him out of the truck he'd wrapped around a tree. At the hospital his blood alcohol level measured .31. The doctor said he should have been dead, that anyone without a tolerance built up like Bob had _would_ have been dead. Bob went straight from the hospital to a detox ward. That was the point when Peggy almost gave up. She no longer had any hope of things getting any better – in fact, it seemed inevitable that this love story would end with her standing over a grave and left to raise two kids on her own.

What a miracle it seemed, then, when Bob's angel appeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Peggy never knew how he found out Bob was in trouble; as far as she knew, Bob had never kept in contact with any of his Navy buddies. Yet when Peggy came to bring Bob home from detox, she found a tall, slender man already there, talking quietly with her husband. Bob's head was bowed, and David had one hand on his shoulder. They looked up at Peggy approached.

"Peg!" Bob said, appearing more animated than she'd seen him in, well, years. "This is David Matthews. I owe this man my life."

David shrugged. "You know you would have done the same for me, Bob." He extended a hand toward Peggy. "Nice to meet you, Peggy." She heard a slight drawl in his speech and guessed he hailed from somewhere down south.

"Davey was a fellow gunner on the _Higbee_," Bob continued. "It was during the battle of Dong Hoi. We took a direct hit from an enemy MiG-17 that knocked out our 5-inch gun mount. I was with six other guys in the mount's upper handling room − Davey was there, too. He saw the missile incoming, grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me to the deck. There were a lot of sailors injured by shrapnel, and I would have been cut to pieces if I'd been standing when she hit." He shook his head. "Man, I don't know if I ever properly thanked you for that."

Peggy felt tears prick the back of her eyelids; she'd never heard Bob speak of his war experiences before. And the thought that he had come so close to death … Spontaneously Peggy put her arms around the stranger and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for keeping my Bob safe," she whispered.

David looked embarrassed at the fuss, but smiled. "I'm just glad I was there," he remarked. "Bob's a pretty great guy, you know."

"I know," Peggy answered, tears threatening again.

At this, Bob looked at his feet. "Yeah, some great guy. Can't keep a job. Worry my wife half to death. My own kids are scared of me. I'm a real prize all right."

Peggy started to protest, but David cut her off. "Sounds like things have been pretty rough for everybody, for a long time," he said quietly. "But it can get better. Believe me. I've been there."

Bob looked up. "Yeah?"

David nodded. "Man, you've got nothing on what I put my family through."

"You have a family?" Peggy asked.

David grunted. "_Had_. By the time I wised up and got my head on straight, it was too late to fix things with Deb. She moved across the country, and I haven't seen my boys in three years." His tone was matter of fact, but his expression was haunted, and Peggy ached for this man she'd only met moments before. She glanced at Bob and saw a look of fear on his face.

"Damn, Dave. I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what I'd do without Peggy and the kids." There was a hitch in his voice that drew Peggy to his side. "Though God knows they deserve better."

"We're not going anywhere," she whispered, slipping her arm around him. She saw David give her a sharp look.

"Actually, Peggy, Bob's been telling me a little bit about what he's put you and the kids through the past few years, and I'm inclined to agree with him. You deserve better."

Mrs. Beldon's indignation was instant. How dare he say something like that, right in front of Bob! Didn't her husband feel bad enough already? "Look, Mr. Matthews," she retorted, "You don't know anything about our family, and you have no right to-"

"Shh, Peg," Bob interrupted, placing a hand on her arm. "Davey's right. He's not saying I don't already know."

"Believe me, Peggy, I'm not saying this to hurt you or Bob," David said, his tone soothing and warm. "I'm speaking from painful experience. We both know Bob is a good man, and it's clear he loves you very much. But it's not going to do you or him any good to keep going on like you have. Something's got to change." He shifted his focus back to Bob. "I'm here to tell you, Bob, that as much as we'd like to, nobody can rescue you this time but yourself. If you _really_ want to get straight, if you're ready to be the man you want for Peggy and the kids, you can do it. I'm not going to kid you: it's going to be a hard fight – worse than anything we saw in 'Nam. But it's worth it." He paused, glanced quickly at Peggy, then back to Bob. "And if you decide to take that journey … you won't take it alone."

That was the turning point. David introduced Bob to AA, agreed to be his sponsor. He hooked Peggy up with Al-Anon, where she met other women going through the same thing. He arranged for Bob to see a counselor at the VA who diagnosed him with something they were calling PTSD: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. With counseling, Bob started to open up to Peggy about what he'd experienced.

As they'd been warned, it wasn't a smooth road, however. Even though David had warned Peggy to expect it, she was devastated the first time Bob "slipped." But David and her new friends at Al-Anon were there to help them get through it. And Bob and Peggy's ever-strengthening commitment to each other and his recovery got them through some tough spots. At David's suggestion, Bob entered a residential rehab program. It was the longest three months of Peggy's life, but Bob emerged with a clearer perspective on his disease, new tools to help control it, and an even firmer resolve to stay the course.

As Bob became more solid in his sobriety, he took a greater role in AA, sharing his story and even sponsoring some guys like Moon. Bob got involved in community doings and organizations like the Elks and VFW. Through it all, David was there, celebrating Bob's one-year anniversary, his two-year. Three. Four. Only a week ago Peggy had met David on the street outside Moon's new coffee house and invited him to help her plan a real party for Bob's upcoming milestone. Dave was strangely noncommittal, but Peggy thought nothing of it at the time; she'd reconnect with him closer to the date.

Two days later, David was gone.

Now, as the clock wound toward midnight, Peggy's desperate anxiety grew. She knew that a relapse was particularly dangerous after a long period of sobriety. Bob, whose body was no longer habituated to a large alcohol load, might easily drink enough to kill him. She could call the police … but how would Bob, who had been so proud of his new standing in the community, bear the shame of being muscled into the back of a squad car and hauled off to detox?

Peggy knew she couldn't handle Bob in this condition by herself. Perhaps the husband of one of her Al-Anon sisters? But through they shared their deepest hurts and hopes weekly, the confidentiality principle of AA and Al-Anon meant that members didn't really socialize outside of meetings. Peggy didn't even know the last names of most of them, and certainly didn't know any of them well enough to call on them at this hour of the night. There was no one. No one. Unless …

Peggy felt she really had no choice. With a feeling of uneasiness, she went to the phone and flipped open the directory to the letter M. Trembling fingers dialed the number and she heard the ring on the other end. Once. Twice. Three times. Peggy almost gave up when she heard a click and a sleepy male voice said, "Yeah?"

"Colin?" Peggy said weakly. "It's Peggy Beldon. Bob's in trouble. I need your help."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

_Warning: This chapter contains content that might be disturbing to some readers._

Afterward, Peggy wondered how she could have agreed to meet Colin at his apartment. In the end, she could only attribute it to being half out of her mind with worry for her husband and the assumption that the man Bob had long called his best friend really meant it when he said he wanted to help. He'd been so sympathetic on the phone, listening as Peggy tearfully poured out her story over the phone. She wanted Colin to look for Bob, bring him home if he could find him. But Colin said it would be better if she came along, that she knew better where Bob might be, that he would be easier to handle if Peggy were there to calm him. It made sense at the time.

And so, just after midnight Peggy found herself knocking on the front door of Colin's house in town. She was a little surprised when he called for her to come in, rather than coming to the door himself. But Peggy let herself in and stepped into the foyer, hands in the pocket of the light jacket she'd hastily thrown over her blouse and skirt. Though it was only early fall, there was a chill in the air, which only increased Peggy's worry. What if Bob were passed out in a ditch someplace, his body temperature getting lower by the minute?

"Colin? Are you ready?" she called.

"Come on in to the living room," he called back from somewhere in the house. "I'm just getting a few things we might need."

Peggy walked tentatively into the room, where a single table lamp was lit. Not bothering to unbutton her coat, she sat on the sofa and laid her hands in her lap, twisting them together nervously. What was taking Colin so long?

When he appeared in the doorway, apparently from his bedroom, Colin was wearing dark jeans and a black t-shirt stretched tight over his muscular frame. He crossed immediately to Peggy and sat down beside her. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Peggy nodded impatiently "I'm fine. It's Bob I'm worried about." She started to get to her feet, but Colin stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Now, Peg, hold your horses," he said. "We don't want to go off half-cocked. And it won't be any good for Bob to see you all worked up like this." He tugged her arm lightly. "Just relax a minute, okay?"

Peggy didn't want to relax. She didn't want to wait even one more minute to start looking for her husband. Yet Colin's tone and words were reasonable, and Peggy recognized that she needed to steady herself, marshal all her inner strength if she were going to be any help to Bob. Sighing, she reluctantly settled back down beside her husband's best friend.

"Now, tell me what the hell's been going on?" Colin prodded. Peggy started hesitantly, embarrassed for herself and Bob. But as she talked, the words tumbled out faster and faster. It was as if some force were compelling her to let it all out – Bob's hard-won sobriety, David's shocking suicide, her husband's long, hard fall off the wagon. She spoke of how frightened she was, how she didn't know if they could make it through this again. By now her words were mixed with tears and interrupted by deep, wracking sobs. Peggy was so overwrought that she was only dimly aware of Colin's arm snaking around her shoulders and his other arm curling over her waist. Some small part of her knew that is was wrong to be here in this man's house – in this man's arms – while he husband was out there somewhere, possibly hurt or worse. But the strain of the past few days had caught up with her, and Peggy felt helpless to resist. In fact, it felt good to be comforted like this, to lay her burdens on someone else's shoulders for just a little while.

At last Peggy lapsed into a silence punctuated by occasional soft sobs. Gradually she became aware that Colin had pulled her closer against him. The hand that rested on her shoulder now drifted to her collarbone, then upward to cup her jaw in his palm while his thumb began gently caressing her still-damp cheek. Colin had angled his face close to hers, and Peggy suddenly realized his breathing had become heavy and ragged.

"Bob has always been a fool," she heard him whisper, his breath hot and urgent in her ear. She tensed suddenly as he abruptly dipped his head and began nuzzling her neck. For a moment she was too stunned even to move. Then, the sound of his low moan as he grabbed her hand and pressed it firmly against his crotch filled Peggy with revulsion. She cried out, trying to twist out of his grip, but he held her tightly against him. In one, sudden movement, he rolled her under his heavy body, pinning her arms beneath her. Peggy writhed desperately as he mashed his mouth against hers, trying to pry apart her lips with his thrusting tongue. Finally he tore his mouth away and she tried to scream. But the only sound that she produced was a strangled, rasping gurgle. She twisted her face toward the couch, denying him further access to her mouth. But he merely shifted his attention to her exposed neck, which he began to nibble and suck. "Come on, baby," he grunted as he rubbed himself against her obscenely. "You know you want this as bad as I do."

Suddenly Peggy felt something snap inside her. "NO!" she gasped, feeling a sudden strength like she never imagined she possessed. She wrenched her arms free and pushed violently against his torso, at the same time drawing up one knee violently between his legs.

Howling in pain, Colin released his grip and she pushed him off her. She flung herself off the couch, hitting the floor with a sickening jolt. Momentarily dazed, she tried to scramble to her feet. Half crawling, half staggering, she lurched desperately toward the door. Suddenly Colin was behind her, still in pain and staggering himself. He threw himself at her, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket as she scrambled away. Terror spurred Peggy onward, and she tore herself away, hearing a ripping sound as the seam at her shoulder gave way. She reached the door and pulled it open, stumbling out onto the lawn with Colin in hot pursuit. She was still screaming when he caught up with her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shouting into her face for her to "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" She saw him draw back his arm and flinched from the impending blow, when suddenly she heard a shout from somewhere close by.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing there!"

Colin pulled his punch and dropped his other hand from Peggy's shoulder, stepping back from her as they both turned to see a gangly figure loping toward them from across the street. Peggy was astonished to recognize Moon.

Relief flooded over Peggy until she heard Colin's low growl behind her. "You'd better keep your mouth shut. Remember, you came to _me_."

Moon reached them then, placing himself between Peggy and Colin, who had backed off a few more steps. Moon looked from Peggy to Colin, taking in the situation immediately. "You're Mrs. Beldon, right? Bob's wife? Are you okay?"

Peggy nodded numbly. She was beginning to shake uncontrollably and folded her arms protectively across her chest. She felt the cool night air against her skin where her jacket sleeve had been torn at the shoulder.

"Everything's fine here. Nothing for you to concern yourself with," Colin said, an edge of menace in his tone. "Why don't you go on your way and mind your own business."

To Peggy's astonishment, the much smaller man didn't back down. "I don't think so. I think I'll stay right here."

Colin glared at him a moment with undisguised contempt, then abruptly turned on his heel and stalked toward the house. "Suit yourself," he called over his shoulder. The minute the door closed behind him, Peggy felt her knees give out and she sank into the grass. Moon was beside her instantly. "It's okay now," he said as she curled into a tight ball. "I'm going to help you, Mrs. Beldon." Sensing she wouldn't want to be touched, he urged her quietly to her feet. "Is that your car?" he asked, gesturing toward her old sedan parked at the curb. "I can drive you to the hospital."

Peggy swung her head and stared at him wide-eyed. "No! No! I can't go to the hospital. I'm fine. He-he didn't hurt me. I got away before …" she trailed off as a wave of nausea rolled over her. She bent suddenly and vomited into the grass.

"My place is just down the street," Moon said. "You can come with me there, wait for me outside if you like while I call the police."

Peggy shook her head violently and began moving toward the car. "No. No police. No hospital," she muttered almost incoherently. "I just need to go home."

"You can't drive yourself," Moon persisted.

"I'll be fine. It's not far."

"At least let me call Bob-"

The traumatized woman stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face her rescuer. "Please," she whispered. "Bob can never, ever know about this."

"He's your husband," Moon answered. "He'd want to know. He deserves to know."

"You don't understand," Peggy said. And Moon really couldn't understand … but she did, so clearly. She knew her husband – his protective nature, his volatile temper. If Bob ever found out what Colin had done … what he had tried to do ... he'd come after him. He might even commit murder. At the very least, he'd blame himself for not being there to protect her. "You came to me," Colin had said, and his words echoed through Peggy like the tolling of a funeral bell. Would Bob really believe she had gone to another man's house in the middle of the night looking for help? If he did, he'd surely feel responsible for what happened to her, just as he felt responsible for David's death. Peggy knew Bob couldn't survive another such blow; one more load of guilt would crush him.

Peggy had reached the sedan. She put her hand on the driver's side door handle and looked at Moon over the hood of the car. "Please, Mr. Moon. I'm so grateful for what you did for me. But I'm begging you. Please, please don't tell anyone. Especially not Bob."

She saw puzzled concern in his kind eyes. But he finally shrugged helplessly. "I think you're making a mistake," he said. "But I promise I won't say anything."

Peggy was able to muster a grateful half smile. She pulled the door open and got behind the wheel, fishing the key out from under the seat. As she placed it in the ignition, she was aware that Moon had come around the car. He leaned down toward the half-open window. "Mrs. Beldon, if you ever need anything, let me know. I owe Bob your husband a lot."

Moon's form was blurred by the tears in Peggy's eyes. "My husband is a good man." Then she shifted the engine into gear and drove away.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Bob still wasn't home when Peggy arrived, and for that she was actually grateful. She felt strangely disassociated from her body as she pulled off her soiled and torn jacket, skirt, blouse, stockings. She stepped into the shower and ran the water as hot as she could stand. Then she scrubbed her body obsessively, almost violently, until her skin felt raw. On automatic pilot she dried herself off and crawled into her bulkiest, least sexy nightgown. She picked up her clothes where she'd dropped them on the bathroom floor, carried them to the kitchen and stuffed them into the bottom of the trash container under the sink. Finally, she climbed onto her side of their double bed and sat, with her knees drawn up under her chin and her back against the headboard, staring at nothing.

She had no idea how long she stayed there before the familiar sight of the truck's headlights flashed through the bedroom window. This time she didn't rouse herself to go out to him to help him into the house. As it turned out, she didn't need to. When Bob came in, his footsteps were firm and steady. She glanced up when he appeared in the bedroom doorway. He looked … sober. She saw his expression change as he got a good look at her, radiating love and deep concern.

He crossed to her, knelt beside the bed and looked up into her tear-stained face. "Aw, Peg," he said, a world of regret embedded in those two words. "I'm so, so sorry, honey." For a panicky moment she feared Moon had sought him out and told him about Colin despite his promise. But as Bob continued, she began to understand he was talking about something else. "God, I should have called. You must have been so worried."

"Where have you been?" she managed to ask.

He got up from his knees and sat beside her on the edge of the bed, taking both her hands in his own. "Well, after I left here, the first place I went was to the liquor store. Big surprise, huh?" His smile was wry and humorless. Peggy said nothing.

"I sat in the parking lot, watching people go in, and people come out. I was about to go in myself when I saw a car pull up beside me. There was a lady behind the wheel. I could tell she was young, but she looked … well, old before her time, I guess you'd say. She looked so tired, and so hopeless. I watched her go into the liquor store, and a few minutes later she came out. A man was with her – her husband, obviously. He was leaning on her, stumbling. I could tell he was angry. Even with the truck windows up, I could hear him swearing as they made their way across the parking lot toward me. The young woman was crying and trying hard not to. I almost got out of the truck to help her as they reached the car, but then she looked straight at me. The look on her face, Peg …" He trailed off and looked down. "I couldn't face it. So I pretended to be looking for something in the glove compartment, and when I looked up again, she had muscled him into the car and was driving away.

"I was so ashamed, Peg. That I didn't man up and help her, but even more because when I looked into her eyes, I saw you, sweetheart. It brought back every time it was me staggering out of some bar, stinking drunk, and you trying to hold me up. You crying as you tried to get me to bed without Michael and Robin knowing what was going on." Peggy felt her husband's fingers curl more firmly around hers.

"And-and I realized, Peggy, that I was throwing away everything we've worked so hard for. Hell, I was dishonoring the memory of Davey by negating everything he'd done to help me. Most of all I realized that more than anything I wanted to keep building the life we've started to create over the past few years."

Peggy nodded and turned her hand under his, threading their fingers together. "So what did you do?"

"I drove to Seattle and found a meeting. Afterwards, I stayed for another meeting. And then I went out for coffee with one of the guys and we talked. I guess I lost track of time, because all of a sudden it was almost midnight and I had an hour's drive ahead of me. I was going to call, but I thought – I hoped – you'd be asleep." He stopped suddenly and shook his head.

"No, that's not true," he admitted. "I guess the real reason I didn't call was because I was afraid to. Afraid to hear your sad voice on the other end of the line … but more afraid that the phone would just keep ringing and ringing and I'd know that you'd finally had enough and left. I knew I had to talk to you in person, Peg. It's about time I did my eight, right?"

Peggy instantly recognized the reference to one of the key principles of AA: "Step 8: Make a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all."

"I know nothing I can do can really make amends for everything I've put you and our family through," Bob said now, a slight tremor in his voice. "But I'm determined to do the best I can to make the rest of our lives together as good as they can be." He looked at her with that lost puppy expression she knew so well. "If you'll let me."

In response, Peggy withdrew her hands from his. Then she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and laid her cheek on his chest. "I don't want to live without you, Bob Beldon," she murmured against the soft flannel of his shirt. "I don't think I could."

"I love you so much, Peg." His own strong arms surrounded her, and they cried together for a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

_June 2014_

It was 20 years since that night, but the memory was as vivid as if it were yesterday. It hadn't been easy, starting over again. But Bob was true to his commitment, and they worked through the rough spots together. Life had become better over time. Their trust in one another became firmer every day. Ten years ago, when Bob retired from the fishing boat and they bought the Thyme & Tide, life was so good that Peggy could almost forget everything that happened before. She only wanted to live in the now – to savor the joy that every new day with her husband brought her.

"Why? Why now?" she whispered now, pressing her forehead more firmly against the cabinet. Why, after all these happy years, did Colin McFadden have to come back and ruin everything? She'd tried so hard to put it behind her, ignore the tiny voice that sometimes whispered to her late in the night: "You know he's going to find out eventually. And it will hurt him. Maybe enough to do something crazy. Maybe enough to forget the past 20 good years."

The sudden chime of the bell over the front door startled Peggy. The first of the check-ins had arrived. The others would be here soon, and they'd all expect to see her smiling and happy to see them. Mrs. Beldon straightened up and blinked away the tears, prepared to greet her guests. She knew a moment of reckoning was coming, and she hoped she had the strength to face it. Until then, she'd keep on pretending that everything was all right. What else could she do?


End file.
